


Of Panties and Murder

by subtextual



Series: Kinky Murder Sex 'Verse [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: A girl is murdered, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Castiel Has Issues, Castiel has a Glitter Kink, Dark Comedy, Dean Has a Crush on Castiel, Dean has a Panty Kink, Jock Dean Winchester, M/M, Panties - Freeform, Serial Killer Castiel, Teacher Castiel, Teen Dean, The crush may or may not be returned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-18
Updated: 2016-04-18
Packaged: 2018-06-02 23:45:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6588070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/subtextual/pseuds/subtextual
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s funny how different guilty pleasures can be.<br/>Football jock Dean likes to make his own panties and Castiel well, he just likes to decorate his victims with glitter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Panties and Murder

**Author's Note:**

> Prequel to Murder in Pink Lace

☠ OF PANTIES AND MURDER ☠

* * *

 

Being broke lead to many new discoveries. For sixteen year old Dean Winchester, one of those was that the panties sold at Victoria Secrets were way too fucking expensive. With how tight funds were he could hardly pay to get the Lucky Charms cereal that Sammy loved, let alone have some extra cash for all things lace and satin. But damn it if he wasn’t resourceful. After finding out how much a nice pair cost he decided to try his luck at a variety of of girl clothing stores instead.

Forever 21 had an awesome selection, only five bucks for some lace trimmed cotton blend boyshorts in white. The fabric in his hands felt okay, though far from as nice as the pair Rhonda Hurley had him wear. Rhonda had been a college girl he found at a bar, and never before had he been so thankful for his fake ID. The woman was gorgeous so when she asked him to try on her underwear back at her place he thought, ‘what the hell.’ The only regret Dean had now looking back on it was how much he enjoyed the feel of satin stretching across his dick. It was a god damn expensive kink, and one he had a trouble fulfilling.

At the moment Dean picked up a couple more pairs of boyshorts at the clothing store. Though he could just tell the lady up front they were for his girlfriend it did make trying on panties difficult. In his hands he had larges. Dean wasn’t the biggest guy yeah, but he was average built with some muscles- and a fairly big dick if he did say so himself. It made finding the right pair of underwear difficult. Yeah he liked how they trapped him, but he needed some room to breath.

This was why he preferred the pink pair Rhonda had given him, one of many from Victoria Secrets no doubt. He moved around a lot, he played fucking football and wrestling for shit sake, he needed a pair that fit him well. With a little over thirty dollars to spend Dean picked up a green floral lace thong that he just knew would make his ass look awesome. It had some give in the front it looked like with the fabric, so he decided it would be okay. But damn it he wished he could try ‘em on.

Adjusting his lettersman jacket Dean made his way up to the cashier. The woman was tiny and blonde, with huge boobs. She looked around his age maybe. Thick eyeliner lined her brown eyes and her lips formed a nice pout with the glossy pink lipstick she wore. When she saw his items the girl giggled. “For a friend?” She asked as she scanned each one.

“Girlfriend,” Dean clarified, hoping so fucking hard that his face wasn’t red. It felt red. A hot, bright red. “Girlfriend,” he repeated and coughed into his hand.

The girl, her name tag read Stacy, hummed. “Whatever you say sweetheart,” she answered, and with the purr of her words it almost sounded predatory.

Fucking hell. So Forever 21 was out.

Dean grabbed his bag and ran like hell outta there. No, he didn’t wanna get a rewards card.

* * *

Killing provided Castiel with an outlet that not many other hobbies gave. Sure, he enjoyed tending to his bees and grading papers. Though neither of those activities gave him the adrenaline rush that cutting into a nice, warm body did. It was the most fun when they screamed, too. At the moment Castiel was in the basement of his large house listening to the frantic pleading of a young woman. Holding the blade in his hand he pressed against her stomach watching the red line that appeared.

“Has anyone ever told you, that you have lovely skin?” He hummed and sank the knife in deeper. “Golden tan. It contrasts rather nicely,” he complimented.

Of course what he loved most about her skin, was how it reminded him of one of his favorite students- Dean Winchester. Freckles like constellations and star dust peppered across his cheeks. This woman had freckles everywhere. He wondered absentmindedly if Dean did, too.

The howl that ripped free from the woman’s throat made Castiel giddy. Heart pounding he watched her wide green eyes grow in fear. When she spoke her throat was raspy, clearly showing the lack of any water or food. Normally he would feel a bit guilty for that, but it wasn’t like this was a guest of the monthly book club he hosted. It simply did not matter because soon she would be dead.

“Wha-what are you going to do now?” She whispered in quiet horror.

Castiel tapped his knife against his chin as blood smeared in the process. Since he liked to keep a low profile he couldn’t kill too often, so he planned on keeping this woman alive till the urge was satisfied. That was when he had an idea. Like a light bulb flashed above his head he dropped the weapon and hurried over to the wooden cabinet. A twisted smile grew across his features.

Rummaging through the cabinets he pushed aside multiple tubs of glitter, a jar of plastic gemsstones, and an array of colorful paints to reveal craft scissors. The pair he picked had a bright purple handle and made a fun zig zag pattern when you cut. Taking them out he held them up to the light, his eyes glinting with a child like insanity.

“We are going to do some arts and crafts,” he answered simply, walking back over to the table the woman was strapped down on. Wielding the scissors in hand Castiel dug them in to the five inch slit from her stomach. Since they were unfortunately not made for torture, it took a bit of work and more blood oozed out of the cut.

As Castiel worked the scissors in he explained more about his newest idea for a project to his screeching victim. “Have you ever used a pair like these?” He began as he pried apart the purple handles. “It might take a few tries since your skin is far from mere fabric, but good news! I think we can make these work,” he told happily.

And with that he forced the scissors to slice through her skin.

* * *

No one had to know why he was here. No one had to know why he was here. Dean repeated this in his head, his own personal mantra as he walked through the isles of Jo-Ann’s Fabric and Craft Store. Since the girly clothing store he tried had been a bust the teen decided to hell with it, he’d just make his own panties. And so that’s what Dean had been doing for the last two weeks or so. Finding the patterns he needed online had been surprisingly easy, and the sewing machine he bought at a thrift store worked okay.

The most fun had to be that he got to customize everything! All the ribbons, lace, tiny little bows- he got to choose. And he always had such a selection in the fabrics. Still, walking through the store he always felt awkward and paranoid. Like the next person he saw would know exactly what he was...

“Holy shit, Mr. Novak!” Dean had just about ran into his English teacher, knocking over the glitter tubs and yard of ribbon the man had been carrying in the process. Of course his own roll of black satin fell to the floor. Bending down he fumbled as he grabbed the craft supplies his teacher dropped because of him.

When Dean managed to find gather everything he noticed Mr. Novak watching him. ‘Course the dude was a little weird like that, he watched him in class too. The teen’s theory was that he’s simply anti-social. “I uh, didn’t know you were into this kinda stuff,” he said after an awkward moment and gestured to the glitter.

Mr. Novak handed him his own satin. “Likewise,” he commented in that rough as hell voice. Sometimes Dean wondered if he smoked. That intense blue gaze was locked on the fabric he held, and immediately he found himself babbling out some kinda excuse.

“I uh, I... am working on a um, blanket. Yeah. What abo-about you?” He rambled, rubbing the back of his neck. Fuck it was hot in here. Jo-Ann’s really needed to work on their AC problem. Exactly. It was odd seeing his teacher outta school, even if the man wore the exact same crap he did in the classroom. A rumpled black suit that fit him too fucking well and a brown trenchcoat. On anyone else it would probably look formal or stuffy or whatever but with five o’ clock shadow and messy dark hair it was anything but on him.

“Arts and crafts is a hobby of mine,” the man answered simply, and his teacher’s lips quirked up in a smirk like it was an inside joke of his. Dean was curious of what it meant. Other then reading thick classics and giving detentions he didn’t think Mr. Novak had any hobbies.

Though it was an easy out. “Mine too,” Dean blurted out, thinking of the red lace trim he would add to this set of panties. For the cut he was torn between bikini and high-cut. One gave his legs a long, lean look while the other was more of a classic flattering shape. Both hugged his ass pretty damn well. Dean fought to think of a subject to change it to. “So are you going to the um, game this Friday sir?”

Yeah. That was probably alright to say. And didn’t give any clues that Dean was hot for his teacher. Or that he enjoyed wearing panties.

Mr. Novak raised an eyebrow. Shit, could he tell how nervous he was? “No, I am afraid that I have... plans that night.” The way he dragged out plans was kinda weird. The man held up the tub of glitter as if to explain.

Nodding his head Dean shoved the black lace behind his back. “Oh yeah. Yeah I get ‘yah," he agreed, hating how squeaky his voice sounded. "So... plans."

"Yes, plans."

* * *

Friday night before the game Dean pulled on the brand new panties he made, throwing back his head as a moan escaped him. Fuck the fabric against his dick felt awesome. He could feel it, tonight he was gonna play hard and score a god damn touch down in these. He just knew it. 

And for his English teacher, he had no idea that back at Castiel's home down in his basement the man was throwing sparkly blue and green glitter over the slaughtered remains of his victim. 

* * *

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Written for SPN Coldest Hits  
> -
> 
> Nothing to see here. Just the typical student/teacher trope. Yup.  
> If you enjoyed this feel free to hit up my ask on tumblr at gankyourdarlings. 
> 
> But totally don't feel that you have to leave a kudos or comment. It's all good. No one has to know you read this.
> 
> -
> 
> also no porn this round because I realized my mistake with my last entry ha ha.
> 
> EDIT: okay fine I will upload the kinky hot murder porn after coldest hits ends but I'm judging ALL OF YOU lmfao.


End file.
